


Another Day at the Salt Mines of Mordor

by MissyTheLeast



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, but believe it or not it's funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyTheLeast/pseuds/MissyTheLeast
Summary: Two old friends are walking down the hall, after another trying meeting with the Boss...





	Another Day at the Salt Mines of Mordor

Dodo do do dodo do do…..

“My Lord.”

“What is it now Gothmog?”

“My Lord, I beg to report…er ehem…he's done it again.”

“WHAT?!”

(louder) “MY LORD I BEG TO REP”

“I heard you the first time you festering pustule! GET ME ANGMAR!”

*flap flap flap*

A dark cloaked man-like shape leaps through the balcony into the throne room, holding a bucket.

“Master, you sent for me?”

“He blew himself up AGAIN!!???!!”

In answer, the chief of the Ringwraiths upends the bucket, and fishes out the biggest solid piece, and holds it up for his Master's perusal.

It was a large middle finger with a gem-stone Ring stuck half way.

The great Eye begins to swell.

“HE DARES TO MOCK ME!! STOMP ON HIS GUTS!!!”

“Master, my will is yours, and I enjoy a good shriek and wallow in entrails as much as the next ghoul, but since he can no longer FEEL IT … I believe the effect wasted.”

The great Eye deflates.

“Master, shall I bring him back to the laboratory for 'reconstituting'?”

The great Eye glares.

“As you wish, Master.”

As the two shades of Men amble down the corridor, bloody bucket swinging causally in the taller wraith's hand, the shorter says:

“You'll pay for that.” It was not a taunt, merely a simple observation.

“I have paid. And paid. And paid again. And I will continue to pay until the end of days. What matters another coin?”

They reach the doorway to their destination. The one called Angmar turns slowly, speaking so only the wraith who was once his dearest friend could hear:

*smirk* “While he re-grows his nether-regions we have some liberty of thought.” *pause* “Allow me a small jest while I may.”

As his companion unseals the door, the Witch-King adds a final sally:

“Mark me, the Dark Lord goes too far with this one. He should leave the dead, dead. Earnur of Gondor may be one of trifling head, but not of heart. He will yet do our Master an injury he does not intend.”

“But what can he do, where even we are helpless and hopeless?”

“I know not. Only that the blood of Numenor is not all spent, and no son of Elendil shall ever forget his hatred of Mordor, tho' he forget his own name.”

…………….

**Author's Note:**

> A very knowledgeable Tolkien fan/scholar, Thomas Snerdley, denizen of the Q&A site Quora, has a theory on the real identity of the Mouth of Sauron, and while I'm not really sure that it's possible, (even for Middle-earth's premier Necromancer) to keep a meat-for-brains warrior alive long enough to turn him into a top notch Black Numenorean sorcerer, it provides a possible answer to what happened to King Earnur after he road through the Black Gate...and if Sauron's blase reaction to Hobbit spies wasn't helped along by misinformation from his Mannish Lieutenant... 
> 
> Taken from a discussion we had in the Tolkien forum, just a bit of fun. Enjoy and Happy New Year!


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